“You want someone who initiates,” he murmurs. “Who takes control.” His fingers flex, gripping me just enough to make me feel it. “You want to be wanted.”

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

His hands slide down, teasing over my hips. “You want to be told what to do.”

My breath hitches.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and full of heat. “Tell me if I’m wrong, Sweetheart.”

I shake my head, my pulse pounding. “You’re not wrong.”

A slow, satisfied smile curves his lips. He reaches up, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, voice thick. “So smart. So strong.”

Heat flares in my chest, unexpected, overwhelming.

His fingers trail lower, tracing the curve of my neck. “And tonight, you’re mine.”

A shiver runs through me.

“Say it,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough.

I barely recognize my voice. “I’m yours.”

His jaw tightens. His pupils blow wide. “Good girl.”

Pleasure courses through me at his praise, sharp and electric. I suck in a breath, my knees threatening to give. I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Heat pools low in my stomach, my body betraying me completely.

Theo kisses me like he owns me like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth, the taste of me. Our bodies press together, heat building so fast I feel like I might combust.

I’m desperate for more, my fingers curling into his shirt, tugging at it, needing him closer. He groans into my mouth, his hands sliding to my hips, gripping tight—

And then, just as suddenly as he took control, he slows.

I whimper, trying to chase his mouth, but he pulls back, his lips swollen, his breath coming hard.

“Easy,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “We’ve got all night.”

I want to argue, to tell him I need him now, but then he cups my jaw, tilting my face up to his. His eyes are dark, knowing.

“Let me take my time with you,” he says, voice low, rough. “I want to do this right.”

A shiver runs through me.

He walks me backward, his hands trailing down my arms, past my wrists, until my knees hit the edge of the bed before he guides me down on the bed. Then, grabbing my thighs he slowly spreads them while devouring me with his eyes. He steps between my thighs as his fingers find the hem of my shirt.

His eyes flick up. “Lift your arms, Sweetheart.”

I obey, heat curling low in my stomach as he peels my shirt up, dragging it over my head. His gaze rakes over me, dark and appreciative, before his fingers move to the clasp of my bra.